In Which Robbo Gets Stoned

Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Today proved to be an unusually bad Monday here at Port Swiller Manor, as I found myself jerked out of the dreamless in the middle of the night by the Middle Gel, who was doubled over in pain.

A bleary drive to the emergency room and hours of sitting around between tests later, the docs pronounced that it was probably a kidney stone.

Regular friends of the decanter may recall my posting here before about the Eldest Gel suffering from the same condition.  To paraphrase Lady Bracknell, to have one nephrolith-ridden child, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to have two looks like carelessness.

And now, if you will indulge me, I’m going back to bed.  (Yawn.)

UPDATE:  D’OH! It just got worse.  I’m resigning from the board of St. Marie of the Blessed Educational Method and I just now remembered that tonight is the dinner at which they officially cut me loose.  I wasn’t much looking forward to the thing anyway (I grow more reclusive as I age), but in my semi-zombie state it’s going to be even harder to keep from, ah, squinting.